


The Hamlet in the Woods

by needleyecandy



Series: Halloween [4]
Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Salem, Drugged Sex, First Time, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, Revenge, Secrets, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex, Witch Hunts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 05:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8433664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/needleyecandy/pseuds/needleyecandy
Summary: Try as he might, Loki was never able to make himself fit into Salem society. When the whispers started, he tried to be ignored, but when the stares started he ran. He never expected to find a tiny hamlet deep in the woods where he might be safe, but then he had not been the first to run. No, that had been Tituba, the family's servant. And when she had run, she had taken Loki's brother.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone! 
> 
> The ethnicities of some characters in here are different from how they're usually portrayed - mine is consistent with the trial documents. (Which is to say that popular culture has erased the Black woman and misrepresented the Indian woman... what a shocker. That said, I'm not super-up on seventeenth century perceptions of race, so if the terms used in the trial have meanings different from what we now think when we read them, I'm completely open to correction.)
> 
> 13 chapters of 1300 words...

Loki always tried his best to be just like the others in the small and closed society of Salem. He was quiet and studious, and all his interest in making trouble had been beaten out of him years before. He read the Bible and worked on the family farm just west of town and that should have been enough. It was enough for the other lads his age, but for some reason he could never understand it did not work for him. He was not shunned outright, of course, but neither was he befriended. He consoled himself with thoughts of the future. _Perhaps, when I am old enough, I will go to New York. They say there are no Puritans there. Perhaps it will be different._

Had things been different, he would have grown up, gone to New York – where there were in fact more than a few Puritans, but not so many as to control the city – and lived a normal, happy life. But things were not different. Things were how they were. This is the tale of what happened instead. 

* 

It began with whispers. People began saying that they had seen Tituba, the Parris's Indian servant, who had escaped some years before and stolen their young son away with her. She had been seen by the Thackeray's barn just before the cow quit giving milk; she had been seen in the forest just before a wolf came and stole a sheep from out of the Warren's pasture, right from under the eyes of their boy who had been set to guard them; she had been seen staring up at the window of the room where Ann Hubbard's babe was born still. 

Whispers were all right. Whispers could be survived. But then there came the screaming girls, crying out that they had been pinched or stabbed. That they were being tormented by witches. 

The trials started. It was easy to guess whom they would name first. They began with the quarrelsome. The woman who asked too many questions and the man who complained about his neighbor's fences. Then they named the poor, the widow with hungry children and an accusing eye, the family whose house had burned. The old and lame followed, the old woman whose wandering mind produced random words in which others heard curses, the man who could not walk without a frightening lurch. 

Loki prayed more loudly than ever in services, he worked harder than ever on the farm. It was there, while he was plowing the field, that he saw Goody Black walking towards the forest carrying a laden bag. She stopped to speak with him; she had always been kind, unlike most of the townsfolk, and he liked her. 

"You know they will not stop, now that they have begun. Folks like you and me are safe only until they have hanged the others. Those girls have screamed so often of a black man tormenting them, I am not waiting for them to complain of a black woman. If you have sense, you will come with me." 

"You're going into the forest?" 

She shrugged. "I have never been a true part of the town. Perhaps the Indians will see that when they find me." 

"And if not?" 

"Then I will be no worse off than if I stayed." 

He nodded. "I will remain here and pray this madness ceases, but I wish you godspeed, Goody Black." 

"God be with you, Master Parris." 

It was another month before Goody Bishop was hanged, the last of the old and infirm. Loki was sorry for her, for she had always been good to him, but it would have been death to speak out. 

Then the whispers turned to him, but he was neither old nor lame. He could run, and he did. 

People said the Indians stole children and murdered men. He was about fourteen, as near as he could guess, and he did not know which one they would think him. But Goody Black was right. It was worth the chance. 

His lungs burned as he tore through the forest, spurred on by the shouts behind him. He ran deep, deep into the woods, until he was so deep into its darkness he could not run. The men pursuing him turned back and he carried on. 

His foot landed upon a piece of ground that was spongy. He knelt and reached down to find a patch of moss. He could have asked no better bed this night, and he lay down and fell asleep, too weary to mind the chill. 

He woke to the sight of a man before him. Tall, with blond hair hanging about his face and deerskin clothing. "Are you an Indian?" he asked, willing his voice not to shake. 

"I am not. What is your name?" 

"Loki Parris." 

A strange fire lit in the man's eyes. "I welcome you to the forest, Loki Parris. My name is Thor." 

"That is the name of my brother who was stolen from us." 

He may as well not have spoken for all the reply he got. "Come." 

Loki rose to his feet and followed him through the trees. They walked for half a day more, drinking from a stream, eating from the pouch Thor wore at his hip. He had dried meat and dried apples that were so sour Loki felt it in his ears. The day was cooling when they reached what he could only call a village. There was a ring of cabins about a clearing with a firepit at its center. At Thor's hark, others began to melt out of the trees. 

"Goody Black!" Loki cried as he ran to her side. 

She smiled. "Mary, now. Welcome, Loki. I see you have already met Thor." 

"He found me where I slept, though I cannot imagine how he came to be there." 

"We are glad to receive you. Let me introduce you to the rest of our group. Together here are Mercy, Tace, and Charity; those men there are John and Ashes, and then we have Enecha and Ashael, and beside him is Fear-Not; Mary you know, and next to her stands Providence, and finally we have our founder, Tituba." 

Loki did not spare a glance for Tituba before whirling upon Thor. "Then you _are_ my brother. Why did you not say?" 

"You said your brother was stolen. I was saved." 

"I would have brought you as well, but you were too young. You were not weaned and I had no milk," Tituba said behind him. 

He turned to her. "Why either of us? Why any of this?" 

Her answer, when it came, was soft. "Your father began to look at me in ways I did not like. I had no refuge but escape, and how could I leave an innocent child in a house of such sickness? It has been a pain to me these many years that I could not bring you as well. I would have, had I been able." 

A wall of nausea collapsed upon him. "I am sorry. I did not know." 

"The fault is not yours, and this day has been hard. Thor, take your brother to rest before our meal." 

Thor's broad hand grasped Loki's own slender one. "Come, brother. You will live with me. My bed is large, and it will fit us both." 

Loki followed him to one of the cabins, casting a glance back at the gathered crowd before crossing the threshold. It was small, with little room beyond that taken by the bed, a small set of shelves, and a fireplace. Two of the shelves held blankets and tools; on the third were some- 

"Those are not for you," Thor said, snatching his arm and pulling him roughly away. "Go to sleep." 


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm sorry," Loki said. He rubbed at his wrist. "I've never seen anything like those before." 

"There's time for that later. Right now you should rest." 

Loki nodded and sat down to take off his boots. "We thought you dead." 

Thor seemed to soften. "I didn't want to leave you. Tituba had to tell me that you were waiting for us in the woods." 

"You were fond of me?" 

"I had been taught pride was a sin, but I was so proud to have a baby brother." 

"Pride _is_ a sin." 

"Unweening pride, perhaps. Now rest." 

Loki lay down in the unfamiliar bed. It felt soft as clouds look, nothing like his own bed at home, where he slept on a firm board covered with a thin and comfortless mattress. "It feels so strange. I'm not sure I can." 

"Would it help if I laid with you? We used to sleep together, you know." 

Loki did not think it would help at all, but Thor looked so wistful all of a sudden that he smiled and said that it would. 

Thor pulled Loki close. "I always said I would protect you. Now at last I may keep my promise." 

Loki shifted, trying to get settled. 

"Are you comfortable?" Thor asked him. 

"You are even harder than my bed back-" He broke off. 

Thor understood. "I will be your home now, if you will allow me." 

Loki buried his face in Thor's warm chest. There was no way he could remember this. He had been not even a year old when Tituba and Thor had disappeared, and yet there was something so familiar. 

* 

When Loki woke the light was dimming and he was alone. He sat up to look around and found that the things he had wanted to study were gone as well. There was mystery here, and his father had yet managed to beat the curiosity out of him. He was just folding back the blankets to crack open the door and peer out when Thor returned. 

"I am sorry. I meant to be here when you woke." 

"Where did you go?" 

Thor smiled. "They failed to crush your spirit. I am so very glad." 

"And you failed to answer my question." 

"I went out and now I have returned. Put your shoes on, it is nearly time for dinner." 

One of the huts was larger than the rest, and long rather than round. They went through the circle, past the people cooking over the fire, and into the large hut. Inside it was a table surrounded by chairs. Tituba and Mary were already there, talking and laughing together. It made sense that they were friends, he realized. Mary was a freewoman but she had never been treated as a full part of the town. They each would have been a respite for the other, both of them facing different but harsh judgment from the rest of the townspeople. 

Tituba was at the head; Thor went to sit at the foot. "Come sit by me, brother," he said. 

Loki took the chair at Thor's right. "Will there be seats enough for everyone, now I am here?" 

"Mary told us to expect you and so we made you a chair and bowl. You are putting no one out," he answered. 

"Oh. Good." 

No sooner had they sat down than the others came in carrying the food. Bowls were passed around, each one filled with a cornmeal porridge studded with dried berries and a hunk of roasted meat atop. Spoons followed, and then Tituba expressed their thanks for the food and everyone began to eat. Conversation flowed, and not just between those who sat next to each other, but all about the room with seemingly no concern for decorum. 

Loki turned to Thor. "I have never seen a woman give thanks when there is a man to do it," he said quietly. When he was very small and his father was away, his mother would say their thanks, but by the time he was around his sixth year that duty had fallen upon him. 

"Many things here are different. You will adjust." 

"I see." 

"Do you hunt?" 

"Father began teaching me this summer." 

"Then I will finish teaching you. We will go tomorrow." 

Loki answered with a nod. 

"You do not seem pleased." 

"I did not enjoy it. Father has little patience." 

He saw the moment Thor realized. "That will not happen here. That will never be done to you here." 

Loki smiled. "Then I would very much like to go with you." 

The meal itself was not so different from that to which he had been accustomed in Salem. Oh, there the meat would have been kept separate from the porridge, and served on plates that were to be carefully cleaned no matter how much a little boy might hate the taste of tongue or kidney. But the porridge itself was familiar, and Goody Jenkins, who did for them after his mother's death, likewise studded it with those fruits his father liked best. 

These were not father's favorite fruits. These were Loki's. 

"How do you like your food?" Thor asked. It was an echo of their father in words but not in tone; Thor sounded as though he cared to know, rather than to be given the expected words. So when Loki answered he made sure to tell the truth. 

"I like it. I am very fond of raspberries." 

Thor made no answer, instead turning to his food. Loki began to worry, fearing that perhaps he had somehow given offense, but a couple minutes later Thor held out his spoon and dropped a pile of berries into Loki's half-emptied bowl. 

"Oh! But I didn't mean-" 

"Hush. I gave them because I wished to do so." 

Loki gave him a tentative smile. "Thank you." 

The rest of the meal passed with little event, and when they adjourned night had fallen and everyone split apart, candlesticks in some of their hands. Thor caught hold of Loki's wrist and led him into the woods, down a path between the two largest cabins. A little ways down they reached a tiny building which above their heads was open to the air. "The privy," Thor said. "There is a chamber pot but in good weather this is far more pleasant." 

"Of course. Thank you." 

When they reached their cabin Thor opened a small trunk, tucked away in a dark corner where Loki had not seen it. 

"I am afraid you will have to make do with my clothes, until there is chance to make more for you. I am certain Mercy will measure you tomorrow, and she sews quickly. I am sure, though, that your nightgowns will be last, so in the meantime you must think of this as yours." 

Loki blushed as he turned away to change into the gown. It was huge on him, but the very size made it feel comforting, as though he might wrap it around himself over and over until he were swaddled like a babe. He was warm and his belly was pleasantly full and his mouth was still sweet from the berries Thor had urged upon him, and he slid into the bed, settling into the plush mattress with a hum of contentment. Thor had not yet donned his nightclothes, so Loki looked up at the ceiling to offer his brother what privacy he could. The rustle of linen said that Thor was changing. 

Just when Loki was sure Thor must be done and about to blow out the candle there came an abrupt rapping at the door. Loki pulled the blankets up to his throat but Thor made no attempt to cover himself before opening it. Whoever Loki might have thought was without, he was wrong. 


	3. Chapter 3

A crow sprang up from the ground and flew in to roost upon the top of Thor's shelves and Loki cried out in shock. 

"Oh, that is Körbl. I found him some time ago with a broken wing, and I brought him home to set it and care for him until it healed. It was some time ago, but he still prefers to spend some nights on his old perch." 

"You live with a crow? We live with a crow?" 

"He's quite intelligent, I'm sure you'll find." 

"And yet he is a crow." 

"Better company than most mankind, to hear Tituba tell it." 

Loki thought of their father, his harsh words and harsher ways. Of their mother, whose loss in childbed was not so great a loss to him, no matter what praises the Reverend said about mothers. Of the people who turned to him with cold eyes and condemnation because he was not like them. The crow, at least, could not speak. 

"Yes, I suppose perhaps she is right," Loki answered. 

Thor bent over and blew out the candle. He climbed into bed and it was already natural for Loki to move close beside him. Thor pressed an affectionate kiss to the top of his head. "Goodnight, Loki." 

"Goodnight, Thor." 

"Goodnight, Körbl." 

Loki froze. For a split second he half expected the crow to speak, but the only answer was a soft coo. 

* 

The morning was crisp and Loki rushed into his clothes the moment he was out from the warm bed. 

"You always did hate the cold," Thor said, watching him with tender eyes. "We will ask Mercy to make sure you have clothes that will keep you warm. You will need more things, I suppose, for they will take longer to dry, but that is no matter. We will just have to take care to wash them at dawn, so they should be mostly dry when we bring them in at night." 

"We wash them ourselves?" 

"We do here, yes. Those tasks requiring special skills are meted out accordingly but some things are done in common. The cleaning of clothing and dishes and so on." 

"I understand." 

"You have never done it before?" 

"I have not," Loki confessed, blushing. 

"It seems a thing all the men have needed to learn, when they arrived. There are many things the men had to learn, and likewise the women had things to learn as well. But our village is stronger for it." 

"Of course." 

Thor dressed in a woolen shirt and deerskin breeches and sat down to tug on a pair of peculiar stockings. Loki was growing bolder by the minute so he sat beside him and leaned forwards to look at them more closely. 

"When our linens wear out, they are cut into narrow strips and knitted." 

"The clothing here is very curious." 

Thor chuckled. "We use what we have. It does result in oddities, at times. But I am certain you shall be handsome no matter how you are dressed." 

Loki blushed. "I didn't mean it like that," he said. 

* 

After breakfast, which was more of the same porridge but with a drizzle of maple where last night there was meat, Mercy followed Loki back to his cabin to measure him, just as Thor had predicted. 

"How quickly are you growing?" she asked once her bark scrap was covered in numbers. 

"Quickly, of late, but almost entirely in my height. I have gained very little breadth." 

She must have heard the wistfulness in his voice for she patted his arm. "Your brother got his height well before his shoulders. I still have many of his outgrown things, waiting for when the material might be needed. I can alter those first and have several things for you within a few days." 

"Thank you. That would be very kind." 

She met Thor in the doorway and he stood aside to let her pass before entering, carrying two flintlocks and with a bag of shot hanging from his belt, dragging it down over his hip. The powder flask on the opposite hip did nothing to counterbalance. 

He handed Loki one of the guns. "This one has the more accurate sight, better for learning." 

Loki took it and followed Thor out, around the fire pit and between the two northmost cabins and then they were winding their way through the trees, not even a trace of a path before them. The forest was dense, forcing them to walk singly. Loki studied how Thor held his gun with an relaxed grip, one hand under the butt while the barrel rested on his shoulder. It did not come so easily as it looked. 

They reached a sun-filled clearing. The massive tree lying on the ground must have recently fallen, for little new growth had sprung up around it. Thor sat down with his flintlock across his lap. "Have a seat," he said, patting the rough bark. Loki sat beside him and watched carefully as he went through how to safely load and ram. He had seen all these things before with his father but Thor made it all clearer, and he was happy to answer Loki's questions rather than being annoyed by them. 

"Today we will share my flask and charger, but I will see to getting you one of your own," Thor told him. 

"I don't mind sharing with you," Loki answered. He was growing more comfortable with Thor almost by the minute, almost as though the long years apart had never been. 

Thor tacked a scrap of linen for Loki to use as a target and stood close behind, checking his grip, watching how he fired. "Good! That was well done." 

"I missed it completely. I hit the tree." 

"As will anyone using a new sight for the first time. Look at how high it went, look at your distance from it, and see how much you must lower the barrel before your next shot. You will learn how to gauge these two things against one another and adjust your aim, but it is a skill that takes time and practice. The shame is only if you do not try." 

_Lower,_ their father would have said. "I understand. That is helpful, thank you." 

Thor kept a close eye on how Loki reloaded, more careful now that the mechanism was hot. Loki's second attempt skimmed the very bottom of the target. "Very good! Do you see how you improve already?" 

Loki's cheeks went warm as he bobbed his head and loaded again. 

By the time Thor suggested they leave off target practice and try for something for their dinner, Loki was hitting it nine times out of ten. “It is harder when the target moves, but you should try, brother,” Thor said. "We can continue with this another day." 

They sat on the tree to eat their lunch, more of the dried meat and apples, before walking a ways to find an area where their noise would not have frightened away the prey. 

Thor showed him how to take cover and encouraged him to take the first shot. 

The soft snick of the flint caught the animal's attention and it darted to the right before Loki could adjust his aim. His shot went almost painfully far astray. 

"No matter," Thor said. "We have hours yet, let us move and try again." 

At every attempt to add to the pot, Loki missed. Thor took six coneys before deciding it was time to return to their little village. 

With the shot bag nearly empty, Thor's hips did not sway so when he walked. 

The stew that night was rich and full of good meat, and rather than telling of how very many coneys Loki missed, Thor sang endless praises of his skill with the target. 


	4. Chapter 4

"You are thoughtful tonight, brother," Thor said as they settled into bed, lazy with the contentment only a good day and a full belly can give. 

"I find it so easy to be with you. I have never felt like this with anyone, ever, and it makes me wonder what my life might have been like had you stayed." 

Thor's sigh sounded like heartbreak. "I was so angry with her for years for taking me away from you. It was only once I was old enough to understand what it was she fled..." 

"Oh, I mean no reproach. There is little use weeping for the past. But I do wonder what your life here was like. Have others left here, or were you the only child?" 

"I was the only child. It was just the two of us for the first three years. Tituba built us a roundhouse with her bare hands, tree branches filled with mud. You can still see it, behind the cabin she has now. It was not the nicest place to live, but it is sturdy and good for storage. She invented traps and my earliest lessons were of how to seek for food, and what things that looked good to eat were not. John came in the fourth year, and he brought with him a musket and a deal of skill in using it. Mercy and Tace came not long after, and by then we had enough people to share the work that I always had someone playing with me while others saw to our needs." 

"How long was it before the village became what it is?" 

"Ashes came the winter after the two women, and in the spring he began building the cabins. He built more than were needed, knowing well that others would choose to leave Salem and some would find their way here. All but you and Mary have been here for at least six summers." 

"Were you happy?" Loki shifted to look up at Thor in the dim light, his eyes wide and worried. 

"I was. I was very happy. Even my lessons they made into play so I learned to read and write with what felt like no effort at all." 

"Good. I am glad." Loki sighed and burrowed into his brother's firm chest. 

* 

A few days later Tace took him searching for what could yet be found to put away for the winter. The berries were almost certain to be gone, but there might be a last flourishing of mushrooms and medicinal herbs, she explained. No one had gone to the northeast in over a moon and it was worth giving it one more pass before the snows came. That sort of gathering was woman’s work – girl's work, really - back in Salem, but there seemed no slight in the invitation, nor in the reception he received when she announced they would go the next morning. 

"You must take my bag with you," Thor said, pointing to his shelves. 

Loki emboldened himself. "What became of those things that were there when I arrived?" 

Thor frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about." 

"There were some things, just here," he insisted, pointing. "They were gone when I woke from my rest." 

"Perhaps it was your imagination. You were so very tired. Or - oh! Yes! - I remember now. I had borrowed some tools from John. That must be what you’re thinking of." 

Loki had not gotten a good sight but they had not looked like tools. He nodded and said nothing. 

Loki did not know what else to say, so he left to join Tace. They were not far into the woods before their first pause. She knelt and the fallen leaves rustled beneath her hand as she brushed them away. "You see this mushroom?" she asked. 

"Is it good?" 

"It is, but what it is good for is yet to be seen. Look," she said, and broke it off. 

"What are we looking at?" he asked after some minutes. 

"It has not changed color. That means it is good for food." She put it in her bag and continued on. They were near the edge of the oak grove when Loki spotted a glimpse of white peeking out from beneath a crimson leaf. 

"Is this another of those mushrooms?" 

"Break it off and see." 

He did so, and within a short minute the stem began to darken to a dusty blue. "Does that mean we cannot eat it?" 

"It does. It is poisonous to eat, but valuable for medicine. Always carry two bags for mushrooms, one for food and one for others. I see you have Thor’s, so we will use that for those that darken.” 

They progressed slowly, staying roughly side-by-side with a row of trees between them, walking with a strange shuffle intended to lift the leaves away from any hiding mushrooms without breaking them. Periodically one of them would stop and kneel to break one off, and they would keep walking while waiting to see if it changed before pausing again to place it in the appropriate bag. 

It was during these pauses he became aware of a different sound atop the sounds of the wind in the near-barren branches and tiny creatures scurrying beneath the leaf litter. Quiet footsteps, far too quiet for a man. 

“Tace,” he whispered. 

“Yes?” 

“Something follows us.” 

“Oh, that must be Vulcis. I did wonder if he would join us.” She turned and whistled. Moments later a red fox, slight and wary, sidled up to her. “After a visit to town to collect goods, I heard a whimpering and found him with his paw caught in a rabbit trap. I carried him home in my shawl and tended him, and he remains fond of me. I believe the amount of food I gave him had a great deal to do with that,” she said fondly. She drew a bit of dried meat from her pouch and the fox jumped up to snatch it from her fingers. When he had finished eating it – it took some time, for the meat was tough – she held up a mushroom from each of their bags. “We seek these,” she told the fox. 

At once he darted before her, sniffing about and glancing back with his clever eyes to urge her onwards, eager to earn more meat. She walked normally after that, letting her fox do the searching while Loki continued to kick at the leaves before him. 

They ate as they worked, drinking from a creek before turning to follow its path. The air was beginning to cool when Loki found a particularly large mushroom. When he checked it after a few minutes walking it was to find yet another with a darkened stem. It just fit into his bag with the stem sticking from the top. 

"I don't think my bag will hold any more." 

She chuckled. "Let me take a look. Perhaps you may have been a little over-eager to add to our medicinal stores." She knelt and spread out her shawl and he emptied his bag upon it. Her swift sure hands sorted them, flipping each onto its cap to display nothing but blue. "It seems you were right. I am impressed." 

"Perhaps Vulcis was not looking for this sort." 

"He's more likely to find me things that aren't mushrooms at all, if he thinks it will get him a bit of something to eat." She smiled down and tossed a bite to the waiting fox, who leapt to snatch it from the air. 

They made their way back to the village, collecting only those things they could add to Tace's bag. 

"I found perhaps four of those," Tace said when Loki shyly showed his finds. 

“You have an eye, lad,” smiled Tituba. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was not until his third night in his new home – when he was neither so exhausted from running, nor so elated by Thor's praise – that he took notice of how the others split themselves off to go to their cabins. There were twelve cabins circling the fire, but not all of them were being used as homes. Mercy, Tace, and Charity all went together into one. That did not strike him as out of the ordinary, for it was not uncommon back in Salem for women, spinsters and widows alike, to share a home and those duties that went with it. Tituba and Fear-Not went to her cabin together, and Enecha went into another with Ashael following with his hand resting upon her back. They must have married as best they could out here. Standing beneath the patch of clear blue sky above the circle, perhaps it might serve as the eye of God, and thus they could be wed before it. But John and Ashes... 

"Are they brothers?" Loki asked when their door was shut. 

"Ashes and Ashael? No, their names are a coincidence. It confused me, as well, for a time." 

"I mean John and Ashes. Are they brothers, that they live together as we do? They do not appear alike, but nor do we." 

Thor chuckled. "They are not brothers, and they definitely do not live together as we do." 

"But you can't mean..." 

"I can and I do. Why do you seem so surprised?" 

"Because it's a grave sin, Thor. One of the worst." 

Thor frowned, his brow twisted in perplexity. "Why?" 

"You can't remember?" 

"Clearly I cannot." 

So Loki told him of the crime of Sodom, how the people cried for the guests to be sent out amongst them, and how it was abhorrent to the Lord. 

Thor's horror at the tale was clear. "Of course it was, if the men did not wish to go out among them. That would be a terrible violation, had such a thing been forced upon them. And guests in the town, at that. Even in the woods we understand what is due a guest." 

"Oh. I had never thought... that is, I was taught that the sin was in their desire for the unnatural acts." 

"I don't see what is unnatural, if one has an urge to do it. Surely that is grounded in one's nature, after all. No, I am quite sure the sin was because they would have lain with the men against their will. Perhaps the Reverend misunderstood what he read." 

It was such a departure from how Loki had always thought of the passage that he needed some time to consider it, rolling the idea about in his mind and letting it grow smooth and gleaming as a pearl. "I think you are right," he told Thor two days later, when they were alone. 

Thor flashed him a teasing grin. "Of course I am." 

"Do you even know what I am speaking of?" 

"Does it matter?" 

Loki gave a hot cry and dove for Thor's stomach. Tituba had whispered to him that his brother was ticklish and there could certainly be no better time in which to test her statement. 

Thor fell back on the bed and Loki fell atop him, their laughter mingling. He wasn't able to do very much before Thor's hands caught hold of his wrists and his stronger arms pulled Loki's away, but it was worth the attempt. He lay there with his hair spread out on the dark brown blanket and his eyes danced as he looked up. Loki's weight was all on his hips where they pressed against Thor's and his back was forced into a deep and satisfying arch. 

"Now then. Why don't you tell me what it is you were speaking about?" Thor asked. 

"What you said about the sins of the cities of the plains. It does make more sense that it means violation rather than whatever is done between those who wish to do it." 

Thor gave him an arrogant grin that made him grateful to Tituba once again. Had Thor remained in Salem he would have learnt not to smile so. 

"I must admit, brother, I had thought that if you found strange any of the groupings here it would have been the three together. After all, you are accustomed to people joining in pairs only, are you not?" 

"The three?" His lips worked on empty air. "Oh! You mean... but women often live together, it doesn't mean..." 

"It doesn't not mean, either," Thor said dryly. He let go of Loki's wrists and Loki fell upon him before scrambling to the side. They lay side by side, legs dangling off the bed and heads rolled to face each other. 

"But what do they _do_?" he asked. 

Thor’s cheeks took on a deep flush. “I haven’t asked. Everyone has fingers and tongues, I suppose. And whatever it is, they seem happy.” 

Loki bit his lip. “I suppose that is what matters.” 

Thor must have heard the hesitation in his voice for he reached over and mussed Loki’s hair. “Oh, brother. One day you will shed Salem.” 

“I don’t mean to be like them.” 

“I know. It has taken time for everyone who comes here. I do not mean to criticize but to reassure.” 

Loki met Thor’s eyes and smiled. 

* 

_Everyone has fingers and tongues._ Thor’s words had to have been what caused Loki’s dream that night. For that was what he dreamed of, fingers stroking every inch of his skin, teasing where he was most sensitive, tensing in pleasure, and then a heated tongue on his eyelids, his throat, licking a hot trail down his chest to his most private area and rolling against it, getting it so hot, so wet. He remembered his back arching and his own voice moaning as a greedy mouth slid down around him… 

When he woke the sheets were clammy and he could not bring himself to meet Thor’s eyes. 

“Do not worry, brother. It was time to wash them, anyway. I had meant to do it tomorrow but no matter,” Thor soothed. 

“I can do it, if you tell me how,” Loki muttered. 

Thor caught his chin and forced his head up to meet his gaze. “It happens to me as well.” Loki frowned doubtfully. " _Truly_." 

That helped, as did Mercy’s arrival at breakfast with a new set of clothing for him. “I went as quickly as I could. You must be ready to change out of those.” 

“I am. Thank you.” 

The deerskin breeches fastened differently than those he was accustomed to, and Thor helped him adjust them so that the lacings on each side were even. They clung to him almost like his own skin but they stretched and moved with him as cloth did not. The surface was so soft it felt as though oiled as he ran his fingertips along his leg. 

“They suit you well,” Thor said as they walked along the path to the stream. Washing was done some way from the village so there would be no soap to taint where they drank. Loki was walking in front to show he had learned the way. 

“They feel strange. Almost like wearing nothing, the way they move. I could almost forget them.” 

Thor chuckled. “I think you would feel the wind far more if you wore nothing. These protect you better than cloth will, whether from brambles or biting pests. I think once you have become accustomed, you will like them as well or better. Do you not feel freer?” 

“I do,” Loki said. “I almost feel as though I could do anything.” 

"That is how you deserve to be. One day you will be omnipotent. You have my word." 


	6. Chapter 6

Perhaps if his sister had lived, Loki might have missed living in Salem. Perhaps he could have found happiness in her. Instead she died within minutes of her birth, their mother following the next morning. He had been about eight years of age. He had not been allowed to mourn his sister; she had died unbaptized, and it was a sin to mourn those known to dwell with the Adversary. Their nameless village came quite easily to be home. Best of all was Thor. 

Loki had not known what it was to sleep warm on chilly nights until he came here. His brother wrapped his massive arms around Loki’s slight frame and gathered him close and whatever chill might have found Loki’s face Thor’s sweet breath drove away. When Thor realized that Loki's hands were easily chilled, he began holding them to himself, letting Loki warm them on his firm stomach. When Loki protested at how unpleasant it must feel, Thor shushed him. "I always promised I would protect you," he said. 

"So you truly do not mind?" 

"I think it much more uncomfortable to be the one with cold hands than the one who takes the cold away." 

"Very well." 

* 

"Look, Thor," Loki said one night, catching hold of Thor's wrist and holding him still when he made for their cabin. He drew Thor to the far side of the circle, by Mary's cabin, and pointed up at the sky. 

"The moon? It is handsome tonight." 

"Look at how full it is. It was just so full when I left Salem, but then it was waning. Now it is the same but growing. Do you see?" _Please see. Please understand,_ he begged. 

Thor understood. "The world has become a mirror of itself in the heavens as well as earth, and what seemed a loss has proved itself a gain." 

"Yes. Yes, that's it exactly." 

"I am glad it was so large, to light your way. I hate to think of you wandering the woods in darkness." 

“I think you would have found me no matter what.” 

“I came twice a week since the day Mary arrived and said we must watch for you. I would have come every day, I would have slept at the edge of the wood, were it not for my responsibilities here. I could not bear the thought of you wandering, alone…” 

At last he saw the opportunity to ask the question that had gnawed upon him since the moment he learned Thor was his brother. “Why did you not tell me who you were?” 

Thor gave a rough laugh. “I did not know what you looked like, beyond your coloring. It would not be the first time that someone came with a false name upon their lips.” 

“Some of them fled indentures,” Loki said. The stolen name of a freeman or freewoman could mean escape instead of chains.” 

Thor nodded. “I wanted you to name yourself in front of the village, in front of Mary, before I revealed myself to be your brother.” 

“How that must have hurt you,” Loki murmured. 

“I will not say it did not,” Thor answered with a rough laugh. 

"And then I was angry with you." His fingers bit into the backs of his hands, pulling the moon from the sky and marking it in his skin. 

"Not without reason. Nor did you stay angry long." 

"I do not think I could ever be angry with you again." 

"I am glad to hear you say so," Thor said. The light in the room caught his eyes oddly. 

Once Loki had spoken one secret thought they seemed to tumble forth. "Do you think father will come looking for me?" 

"They do sometimes venture into the woods, but never this far. Even if he does look for you, he will not find you. It would be quite impossible for him to find you, so long as you do not go near the town. You must promise me you will remain here, deep within the protection of the trees." 

"I will." 

"Promise," Thor demanded. 

The harshness of his tone was so abrupt Loki could not help taking hurt from it. "I promise." 

Thor sighed. "Forgive me. I do not mean to be rough with you. I merely wish to keep you where you are safe." 

"But you venture nearer. If it isn't safe for me, is it safe for you?" 

"He does not know my face," Thor said. 

_It would not be so very different from his own, if only his were kind,_ Loki thought. How strange that he had only now realized. "Of course. I didn't think of that," he said. 

* 

They spent several days working in the small clearing that served them for a farm. The weather had finally been dry long enough for the rye grains to be good for collection. Loki had witnessed what happened with damp grain was gathered, the risk forced by lowering clouds; even spread out on sheets and turned and fanned, a solid layer of mold had grown across them, the green fur making him sneeze and retch. 

The appearance of these had been unsettling until Ashael, who tended the patch, reassured him. 

"Some has turned black," Loki had said, carrying a handful of the grains over to show. 

Ashael was resting and feeding a few grains to the dove which so often accompanied him. She had been caught by a hawk and her frightened coos had moved him to compassion and rescue, and he had not eaten fowl since. He picked one up and examined it in a beam of sunlight. "There is nothing to fear in this instance," he said. "So it has been in every year of rye that we have grown, and so it was in the seed I brought here with me." 

"I see. I apologize for bothering you," Loki said politely. 

"There is no need for you to apologize. It is always wisest to ask and be safe." 

* 

It was not many nights later when he noticed Thor looking at him oddly. "Are you well, brother? You are looking peaked," Thor asked. 

"I am well," Loki answered, a little confused. He felt very well indeed, but when they got to dinner Mercy and Enecha both commented on his particular paleness. 

"I will brew you a strengthening tea," Tituba promised. "As soon as our meal is finished." 

When she had finished eating she left the hall, as the long hut was called, and returned some minutes later with a tin cup from which rose a solid tendril of steam. 

"Pass this down to Loki, please," she said, placing it in front of Enecha. 

It tasted strange and bitter, but he had witnessed the effectiveness of her medicines so drank it without complaint. Soon, though it was not yet dusk, he was yawning. 

"Go to bed, brother. Rest, and you will feel stronger in the morning," urged Thor. 

Loki nodded and stumbled to their hut. He woke briefly when Thor came in, and other than that the night was oblivion. 

"You were late to bed last night," Loki said when he woke. His head felt full of wool and he struggled to clear it. 

"I was restless and I had no wish to disturb you." 

"Thank you. That was kindly thought." 

Thor brushed Loki's hair back from his eyes. "You look better today. The tonic did you good." 

"I feel strange still." 

"That will pass when you have eaten. Come, there is much work to do today." 

Thor was proven right; they broke their fasts with oatmeal porridge and venison sausages, and by the time he was done eating he felt ready to do his share of the repairs to Mary's cabin, which had been damaged in a wind storm. 


	7. Chapter 7

It amused Loki to discover how many thefts that had been blamed upon witches had been committed by this village. Every so often, scouts were sent to Salem at night to take what could be found. 

"That was you?" Loki had said, laughing, when he learned it was Thor who had taken the Parris's meat grinder. "Father was so angry!" 

"It would have been mine by inheritance. I merely hastened things," Thor had replied with merry eyes. 

"May I go next time?" he begged. 

"No, both you and Mary must stay well clear of Salem. It is dangerous for all of us, but doubly for you," Tituba told him. 

Loki and Mary arriving when they did – late summer for Mary, early autumn for Loki - meant two people to feed from the winter’s stores who had not been there long enough to do much in adding to them. Over dinner one night, therefore, the conversation turned to the best ways to steal food in the village. 

"Why do we not go to the general store?" asked Enecha. "It is long since we have been there and sugar and oil would do us good." 

"Goodman Brown has taken to sleeping on the floor with his shotgun to protect his wares," Loki said. 

Mary snorted. "That's what he says. The truth is his wife heard about what he did on his last visit to New York, when he went to purchase goods for the store." 

Tace frowned. "She'd best be careful. A single word from a husband to the magistrate..." 

The rest did not have to be said, each one of them knowing all too well. _...and she'd find herself on trial for witchcraft and soon he'd be a widower looking to wed a more obedient woman._

Tituba turned to Mary. "Where would you suggest we go?" 

Mary did not seem surprised by the question. Whether it was because she had been here longer and grown accustomed, or because the men did not play the role that Loki had grown up watching, he did not know. Loki himself was growing tall and his voice was dropping but to his father there was no doubt he was still a child, not meant to be heard. Unlike Mary, he was still surprised to be asked his opinion at the meal table. 

“Oil and sugar are good to have in the winter,” Mary agreed, "But with two extra to be fed, I think it best to focus on the amount of food that can be collected." 

Loki spoke up hesitantly. "Goodman Proctor always sends two cows to the butcher when the autumn turns cold, and he hangs the sides in his storage shed. The door is terribly loud, and he believes this means his beef is safe, but I heard him tell father that if only you lift up as you open it, it makes no noise at all. His farm is closer to town but there are no farms between his and the woods." 

"Three hundred pounds a side, four people to carry it," mused Ashes. "Thor can do half himself. Seven people could bring us twelve hundred pounds and we would have meat for a year." 

"Another four could be gathering corn from my father's field. His harvest will be slow without me there to work, and, after all, some of it was intended for me to eat." 

"And you and Mary will give us a cheerful welcome when we return and that will be as good as any other task." 

It was agreed that they would go in two days' time, slipping away from their little village at midday so as to arrive at the outskirts of Salem right at nightfall. What had sounded like adventure and excitement, when Loki was told of past expeditions, now looked much more like risk and danger. He spent the morning fretting, accomplishing nothing, until Mary took him by the hand and said they were going to look for acorns. Her voice brooked no refusal. 

"I would like to wish my brother Godspeed." 

She nodded. "Of course." 

He found Thor sitting in the meeting room, mending their collecting bags. "The last thing we need is a trail of fallen corn leading to us," he explained. 

"I am to go forage with Mary. Be safe, Thor. Come home safely." 

Thor gave him a reassuring smile. “Have no fears, brother. We will take every possible precaution. I will be with you by morning.” 

Thor set down the bag and rose, drawing Loki into his arms. "You have my word." He pressed a kiss into Loki's hair before giving it an affectionate ruffle. "Now go. The sooner you start, the more food you will find before the squirrels do." 

It was with reluctance that Loki turned away to follow Mary down the path of virtues, as they had taken to calling the trail that began between the cabin of Providence and that shared by Mercy, Tace, and Charity. Loki was the first to name it so, speaking privately with Thor, and his brother had roared with laughter and shared it over the next meal and Loki’s cheeks still flushed warm at the thought of how they had all laughed. There had been little laughter back in Salem, and none of it so tinged with kindness. 

"There are several oak groves scattered about. You will find them at all cardinal and ordinal points walking away from the village. Most are young, planted by Tituba when she and Thor first came, but we will go today to the one to the south, which was there before they came." 

"I did not know they could be eaten." 

"I admit, it takes some time to grow accustomed to the flavor. But Tituba was not taken from her people until she was about your age, and she brought with her knowledge about these parts that the Puritans can only dream." 

"Why did she stay here instead of going back to them?" Loki asked shyly. 

"She did not know how to find them, and the language of the people here is so different from her own that she could speak with them no better than could you or I. And I believe," Mary said, softening, "she wished to keep a watch over you as well. She asked me to look out for you, as best I could, the day before she took Thor and ran." 

Loki thought. Deep, deep back inside, he held a memory. "You gave me sweets when I was young." 

She laughed. "I am surprised you remember that. I could not risk you growing older and asking questions but it was such a joy to make you smile." 

* 

They had been gathering for perhaps two hours when low noises began to echo through the woods. "What is that?" he asked, looking up. 

"What is what?" 

"That sound. Like drums, or chanting." 

"I hear only the wind," she said. She did not meet his eyes. 

* 

The searchers were not expected back until nearly dawn, and Mary and Loki returned to an empty settlement. There was bread left which she had him slice that while she went to the creek to rinse the few berries they had found. They had spent over half the day walking, and despite what Thor had said about them offering a hearty welcome, they went to bed early. Loki slept until he felt the bed dip. 

"Thor?" he mumbled. 

"Yes. Hush, go back to sleep. I will tell you all, but later." 

The night had grown cold, and when Thor curled up beside Loki, it was Loki who gave of his warmth. Despite the chill of Thor's body it made him feel warm, that for once he was the one caring for his brother. He smiled and kissed Thor's hair. 


	8. Chapter 8

Most of the raiding party slept late, only Enecha and Providence light enough sleepers that they could not ignore the sound of birds encouraging them to rise and greet the day. The two of them worked sluggishly as they helped Loki and Mary prepare breakfast for the others. 

"Use extra syrup today," Mary told him. "It will do them good after their hard work." 

There seemed to be more sweets here in a week than Loki had eaten in his life. He beamed at her as he opened the jug to tilt in the thick brown stream to the bubbling vat of thickening cornmeal. The moment it hit the hot surface it sent up a plume of perfume that set his mouth watering. 

Mary sniffed the air and looked over to see the solid layer of maple forming on top of the porridge. "I see you are agreeable about doing as you are told," she told him. Her dark eyes sparkled with merriment and he smiled happily back. 

The four of them ate quickly before filling bowls to take to the others. 

"You tend your brother. He could barely move his arms last night with weariness and he'll need you to feed him, most like. We can see to the rest," Providence offered. 

"Thank you. I'm sure he will be grateful." 

"He carried half a side of beef for over five hours. He's earned it." 

Thor was deep in sleep when Loki returned to their cabin. 

"Thor," Loki murmured. He sat on the side of the bed and shook his brother's shoulder. "Thor, wake up." 

"Hmm?" 

"You worked so hard last night, you must eat. If you will add my pillow to your own, I will feed you." 

"Oh, I love you, Loki," Thor groaned as he rolled to his back. His attempts at arranging the pillows were fumbling so Loki set down the bowl and stood to do it, giving them a good fluff before nodding to Thor to lie back upon them. 

Thor gave a sigh of contentment as he leaned back, his head raised just enough for him to be easily fed. Loki drew the covers up about his neck to keep him warm and scooped up a bite of porridge. He lowered it to his brother's mouth. 

"Thor. Wake up." 

"Mmm?" 

"Thor, I'm trying to feed you," Loki said with a soft laugh. 

"Mmm. Yes. Thank you," Thor said. His eyes stayed shut as he opened his mouth. His lips curled at the taste of it. "It was you who sweetened it, was it not?" 

"It was." 

Thor gave a happy sigh. "No one else does it half so well as you. You use so very much." 

"You must rest more after you have eaten, and when you wake I wish to hear about all that transpired." 

"You shall. Every bit of it." 

He opened his mouth for more and when it was not filled quickly enough to suit him, he opened one eye to fix it intently upon Loki. Loki giggled and gave him another bite. 

No sooner had he finished eating than he was dozing off, the weariness of his body reclaiming him. Loki took the dish and spoon to wash and when he returned he sat at the table to read. They had no books here but what they themselves wrote, fanciful tales inscribed on wax-covered tablets, kept long enough to be read once or twice and then melted away, smoothing the surface to receive something new. It had saddened him at first, that they could not be kept, but he was coming to sense that their ephemeral nature was inextricably bound up with the strange whimsy of the stories. To put a phantasy into ink was to cage it in cold black bars, serifs like spikes to pin it to the page. This way it might visit, pass a time with them, and then be freed. 

This story was one of Fear-Not's. He was a near-silent man but his tales proved him possessed of a vivid mind that simply preferred to communicate through wax and writing than through smiles and speech. Loki was thoroughly engrossed by the time Thor said his name. 

"What?" he asked, looking up. It always took him a few seconds to restore his mind to the real world when he had been reading. 

"I merely said your name," Thor answered. "But I did hope you might go to Enecha and ask if she might have aught to help my arms. They ache so I can hardly move them." 

"Of course. I will go at once." Loki put an unobtrusive scratch in the wax to mark his place and he set aside the tablet. 

Enecha had both an ointment and a tea that she said would help. While the tea brewed she measured out a portion of the ointment into a smaller jar that she said Loki might keep. He thanked her politely and went home with his hands full. 

Thor was still resting against the pillows so it was easy to get the tea into him. Once it was drunk, Loki moved away the blankets and loosened the neck of Thor's gown until he was able to lower it off one shoulder, down the arm, and then off the other side so that the fabric puddled at his waist. 

"I can do this," Thor offered. "You were enjoying your tale." 

"Nonsense. You relax and lie still and let me rub it into your muscles, and soon the aches will ease." 

She had not been exaggerating its effectiveness. Soon Thor was openly moaning in pleasured relief as Loki rubbed his hands over his shoulders, over his arms, across his back. 

The following days were devoted to seeing to their new goods. They had no cold-house in which to keep the beef so all that could not be eaten in the next few days had to be sliced thin and salted and dried. They rotated through the gathering hall, working in hour shifts so their arms did not become too tired to keep working. Those who were not slicing were tending to the fire and the salt and drying. There was no way to avoid the effects of salt and heat upon their hands and by the second day Loki’s fingers were cracked and bleeding. No one else seemed so affected and he hid them in his lap when they gathered, ashamed at his fragility. 

He might have succeeded in his attempt had Thor not seen him wince upon unbuttoning his shirt before bed. Thor rose and snatched at his wrists, turning his hands over to inspect them. 

“Why did you not tell me of this?” Thor demanded. 

“No one else is so weak.” 

“It is not weakness. It is..." Thor sighed. "It is not weakness, Loki. I will return with something to help them heal.” 

Thor put his shirt back on and went out, returning with an earthenware jar which he opened to reveal a stinking ointment. “Not pleasant to smell, I grant you, but you will feel better tomorrow for using it.” He smeared a thick layer over Loki’s injuries and wrapped his hands in old linen, washed so often it was soft as butter. 

Loki sat quietly while Thor undressed him with gentle hands and garbed him in his long nightshirt. He laid down and Thor blew out the candle and joined him. 

His hands were so improved in the morning that he was still staring at them, stunned, when Thor awoke. "I told you they would be better," he said. 

"But this is weeks' worth of healing! There is already new skin where it was broken. Look for yourself," he answered, thrusting them forwards. 

Thor did not quite meet his eyes. "It is a good medicine." 


	9. Chapter 9

Something woke Loki in the night. He lay still, listening for what it was. There were no noises from outside the cabin, no footfalls on fallen leaves, no owl asking its haunting question nor a whip-poor-will making its cruel demands. Thor, he realized. His breathing had changed. 

"You are awake," Loki whispered. 

"I did not mean to disturb you." 

"I don't mind. What woke you?" 

There was a soft exhale before Thor spoke. "Loki?" 

"Yes?" 

"How well do you remember mother?" 

Thor was so _large_ and strong and his voice so deep that Loki never seemed to remember that it had been little more than two years between their births. The wistfulness in Thor's voice made him remember. 

"Well enough." 

"You were about eight when she died?" 

Loki nodded, letting the shift of his hair against Thor's cheek answer for him. 

"Tell me of her. Was she as kind as I remember?" 

_No._ "Yes. She was wonderfully kind." 

"I remember her smiling. She smiled so much." 

"Oh, yes. All the time." 

"And singing. She used to sing while she washed the laundry, do you remember that? Keeping time with the passes on the washboard." 

"Like a songbird." 

She must have changed when Thor disappeared, the shock and heartbreak stealing away all her joy and leaving no love left to give to Loki. A flare of anger overtook him at the thought of what his life might have been like, had Tituba not taken Thor away. 

"Her hair was so lovely, too. Long and wavy and the prettiest shade of soft yellow, just like mine. It looked like cornsilk, and she always wore it down, not like the other women in the village." 

This memory washed away Loki's anger. Their mother had hair nearly as dark as his own and the only time she took off her day bonnet was to put on the one for night. Thor's memories, whether they had sprung from his imagination or Tituba's tales, were of a wholly imagined woman, a mother who had cared for him when she looked after him. His abduction had not changed their real mother at all. Tituba had given him a far better one. 

"Yes," Loki said softly, "her hair was beautiful." 

Loki could hear the trembling smile in his voice. "Loki, I am so very happy you are here." 

Whether it was tenderness or madness that made Loki reply as he did, he did not know. He reached up and put his hand on Thor's face, letting his fingers melt over the strong bones, and let it guide him forward to brush his lips against his brother's. 

"Loki..." 

Loki jerked away. "I'm sorry! I didn't – I'm sorry." 

"I was not going to reprimand you. I wished only to ask how much you meant by that." 

"How much?" 

"You are my heart," Thor said simply. "You have always been so. I would not wish you to act from sympathy or anything but your own desire." 

He was all muddled inside, emotions all twisting together like he couldn't breathe. All he knew was that he liked how it felt to have Thor's lips upon his own. "I don't think I understand what I feel. Will you be patient with me?" 

"I would wait a lifetime." 

"And I don't know anything about... you know. Not beyond seeing the farm animals." 

"We will have to learn together." 

"You?" It seemed impossible. The people here were unbound by the strictures of the outside world, and Thor was basically a man. He did his full share and more of the work, his huge body suited to tasks that must have been double the labor for anyone else. And his radiance... his brother glowed so bright, it was impossible to think that others should not be drawn to him as Loki was. 

"Look how much older the others are. I have grown up among them and in their hearts they still see me as a child. I do not think such a thing would ever enter their minds." 

"Oh. Of course." 

"So it is you and I together in whatever way you wish." 

"I know I wish this much," Loki whispered, and again he found Thor's lips in the dark. 

* 

The morning air had a cold bite and Loki burrowed deeper into the blankets before burying his face against Thor's chest. 

Thor gave an undignified squawk. "Your nose is freezing!" 

"I know. That's why I want to warm it on you before we get up." 

"Very well." Thor's hand came up to cradle his head and hold him close. Loki gave a soft, contented sigh, and Thor began to stroke his hair. "So you have no regrets about last night?" 

"None. Have you?" 

"None at all. Oh, my brother. I wish to bring you happiness in all things," Thor breathed. 

Loki bunched his fists into Thor's nightclothes. "I know." 

They explored slowly, at Thor's insistence. "I wish us to fully enjoy each new thing we do," he said whenever Loki urged him to haste. 

From how often he would ask Loki, the next morning, if all remained well between them, he had another reason as well. At times Loki grew impatient, wanting to scold, _of course all is well,_ but when he looked at Thor's face, so honest and concerned that Loki remained happy, if impatient, with how the two of them progressed, the words always fell from his lips. And that was how they passed the winter. 

Whole weeks seemed to be given to kisses. They spent whole days in bed, leaving only long enough to eat or use the privy before sliding back between the sheets, becoming scholars of all the ways in which two faces might meet. There seemed a thousand ways to kiss one another's lips, delicate brushes, quick teasing pecks at the corners, slow and heated and the lips parting for a brush of tongues. And kisses went beyond these; Thor loved to skim his lips over Loki's eyelids while whispering promises, Loki loved to nuzzle Thor's ear until Thor's chest was heaving with sighs. 

It was when the days were nearing their shortest that they began to touch one another outside their clothing. The touches were carefully placed: the chest, the arms and shoulders, the back, the sides of the hip. Loki memorized the feel of Thor's arms beneath his hands, tracing each swell of muscle through thin linen, even those few veins that stood boldly he learned better than his own. Thor, for all his insistence of patience, found Loki's chest irresistible, his fingers drawn like magnets to tease his soft smooth nipples into pert tightness. 

The days began to lengthen and their hands touched each other's skin and were it not for the cold they likely would have foregone food. They shed their gowns, letting the blankets and their bodies keep them warm. Their touches did not stray from where they had been before - "not yet, brother," Thor would say, catching at Loki's hand – but simply the feel of one another with nothing in between was like raspberries and maple sugar and cream and heaven. 

"I still can scarce believe you are here," Thor whispered to him one night. Loki was on his side with his back to Thor and Thor was curled tight around him, every possible inch pressed together to share their heat. "I did not know the body could contain such joy." 

Loki pressed harder against him. "I can feel your heart," he said. 

"Of course. You _are _my heart."__

"You speak sweetly." 

"I have your sugar upon my lips." 

It was near the end of winter when they discovered one more kind of kiss in drinking down the other's cries of pleasure. 

And then one day with a ripple of birdsong it was spring. 


	10. Chapter 10

Spring brought with it nothing he had not seen before, but it was the first time he was allowed to revel in it. Even before the snow was gone from the shadows there were delicate snowdrops pushing through it, and soon they were joined by sprightly bluebells and cheerful winter aconite. Of these latter there was an abundance lining the ground before each cabin so that their honeyed perfume greeted them each time they stepped out of doors. 

"They are useful for medicine, as well," Thor explained when Loki commented on how pleasant it was to see their bright color after the long dark winter. 

"Not until they're done blooming, I hope?" 

"It is their leaves that are used, so you may smell to your heart's content." 

"You're teasing me," Loki protested. 

"Maybe a little. But you are so delightful to tease, brother, how can I resist?" 

Loki's hands slipped around Thor's shoulders. He had grown taller over the past months and no longer needed to rise up on his toes to claim his brother's lips. He caught the full lower one between his own, nuzzling at it, flicking his tongue over the delicate skin, and jerking his head away each time Thor tried to return his caresses. "You are not the only one capable of teasing." 

"Mmm. But I am the only one capable of doing this," Thor said, and he bent over and scooped Loki right off his feet so that they hung useless in the air. "If you want down, you must pay the fee." 

"The fee? I must kiss you before I might be set down?" 

"Indeed." 

"Hmm. Then I will not kiss you and instead I will let you carry me about. I wish to go to the southern oak grove, to begin." 

"That was not at all what I intended," Thor told him, laughing. 

"I know," Loki answered. 

Thor dropped him suddenly to his feet and caught him in a heated kiss before he could get away. And indeed he did not want to. 

* 

It was not many days later that John returned with a face far too grave for the crisp green day. "We must meet," he answered through tight lips when Ashes tried to cheer him to a smile. 

The others were quickly fetched and they gathered together in the meeting house, settling into their usual places with worried eyes. 

"I nearly met a party of villagers while hunting," he said into the grim silence. 

Charity's voice was high and tight. "What happened? You never go anywhere near the village. You are always careful." 

He shook his head. "Nor did I today, and yet they were there. They are delving deeper and deeper into the woods. If they continue it will not be long before we find ourselves at risk." 

"How far off were they?" asked Tituba. 

"A walk of two hours. Perhaps less; no more." 

Loki had been watching them with intent eyes and growing fear. "What will happen if they find us?" he asked. 

"They will not," Thor told him. Beneath the table Thor's heavy hand came to rest on his knee, warm and solid, weighting him from flights of fancy. 

"But if they were that close-" 

"Why don't the two of you begin dinner? You are too young to bear such worries. Trust that you will be kept safe, Loki," Providence said, meeting his eyes. 

"But-" 

"Come, brother," Thor interrupted. "Danger has come before and it has always been met and defeated, and so it shall be again, and in the meantime there are pumpkins to be roasted and a meal to be prepared." 

Loki trailed after him with reluctance, casting a glance back inside before shutting the door behind himself. The adults sat in silence, waiting for them to go. 

"Why are we being kept ignorant of things that affect us?" he demanded as Thor cut the tops from the pumpkins. 

"They will tell us what we need to know," Thor assured him. He looked up with a smile. "You know, sometimes it is almost impossible to believe you to be the same hesitant boy who came to us last year. They had spent so long trying to extinguish your spark. Now it flames." 

Thor's answer was punctuated by the thick, wet sounds of his hand scooping out the seeds, which he set down for Loki to separate from the thick orange strings that held them in clumps. They would save six seeds from each pumpkin and cook the rest over a low fire, a little sugar dusted on them to melt and grow crisp. Any other day, Loki's mouth would already be watering in anticipation instead of dry with fear. 

"What we need to know is what is happening! What the villagers mean to do, how we will respond. You are one of the best with the flintlocks. Surely you will be involved in whatever action is made. They ought to involve you in deciding what that is to be." 

"I expect they are trying to determine how to avoid the need for firearms at all," Thor told him. 

"But if they are hunting ever nearer to our home-" 

"Are you finished sorting the seeds?" 

"Nearly." 

"Then I suggest you complete your task while I put these over the fire." 

Loki gazed at Thor from beneath lowered lashes. "I thought you were pleased I had come into myself," he said lowly. 

"Of course I am! But when you keep asking me the same question, one for which I have no answer... what should I tell you, brother? I know we will we well. I do not yet know how this will be done. What more is there to say?" 

"You look tired, Loki," Tace said that evening at dinner. 

He met her kind look with a glare. "I grow weary with frustration." 

"Perhaps some tea, after you have eaten," she suggested, blithely ignoring his ill temper. 

"I don't need it," he said. 

"A good rest will help your mood come morning." 

"I just want to know what is happening." 

"We will find a way to scare them off," Tituba announced from the head of the table. She had been talking with Mary, their heads lowered together, so that Loki did not know she had been listening. She always spoke with a quiet authority that he found himself willing to accept with far less question, and when the steaming cup was set before him he drank it without further question. 

The full moon saw him to his cabin and his mind was not so woolly he did not understand what it meant. 

* 

"You look tired, Loki. It would be best if you had another cup of the strengthening tea. It can be difficult for growing boys to eat enough, and your shoulders are broadening almost by the day," Providence told him with a smile. It had been a full month and there were no further threats from the village, and Loki had once again cast his eyes to the sky. 

They had grown confident, and no longer watched him drink. He took the steaming cup and gave his thanks in reply, and she smiled at him as he took it to the cabin. He had found a loose floorboard some days ago, and now, alone, he knelt and worked it free. The tea sank into the ground, still sending white tendrils dancing upwards. He had the board in place and himself in bed before Thor entered. 

"Sleepy, brother?" Thor asked. 

Loki gave a dramatic yawn. "I am, but Providence gave me some tea. I will be better tomorrow." 

Thor leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Good. I will go without, so as not to disturb your rest." 

He waited until silence fell over the village before slipping outside. 


	11. Chapter 11

All the others were away. 

Whatever secrets were held here, they were hidden in Tituba's cabin. This was the sort of opportunity that might not come again for months, perhaps not until the same time next year. He wrapped himself in his warm clothes before slipping from the door and scurrying across the clearing. 

Her cabin smelled dark and good, the air rich with the herbs that hung from her ceiling and lingering woodsmoke. Even that smelled different, as though she had a different type of wood to burn. When his eyes had adjusted from outside's snowy glare, he moved farther in. 

She had a set of shelves, just as Thor did. In fact, as he approached them he recognized some of the things that had disappeared from Thor's cabin while Loki rested on his first day here. There was a scrap of paper with a strange design, a cluster of rose hips, and something about the size of his hand wrapped in a piece of cloth. He picked it up and with no little trepidation unwrapped it and the world turned to ice. 

It was a poppet. It had a white face and black hair and green eyes. Loki had heard that witches stitched the names of their victims on their poppets but with this none was needed. 

The door opened and a shadow nearly filled the beam of light that flooded the room. 

"Loki," Thor said, "put that down." 

He clutched it to his breast as his eyes filled with tears. He might not know witchcraft, he thought, but he knew that poppets were used for curses. He had to keep it safe. "It's me. Why should I put it down?" 

"Because you are shaking and liable to drop it, and you could do yourself a harm." 

The heady smell of the fire was making him confused. That had to be what was wrong. 

"Please. If you will not put it down, at least sit on the bed and hold it safely on your lap. Please, Loki, you must trust me." 

Loki burst into hysterical laughter. "Trust you? You must know how rich that is, coming from you. And the worst of it is that I really did." 

He sat down abruptly. 

"Thank you," Thor sighed. "Will you hear me out? That is all I ask. Hear me out before you judge, or are you no better than those folk in Salem?" 

"I will hear you." 

"This poppet is to keep you safe. Look at the cloth in which it is kept. It is not wrapped in charms or magics, it is in plain thick wool. A protective cushion. Tituba made the poppet for me as soon as this cabin was built. I wept every day for you until she made it and taught me to care for it." 

Loki thought of how witches fed their familiars, nursing them from an unnatural teat, and a wave of sickness washed over him. "Care for it?" 

"How to give it my love, that you might feel loved. Every night before I went to bed, I would unwrap it and kiss its head and tell you I love you. After mother died I began doing it in the mornings, as well. Did you ever feel it?" He looked so hopeful of a sudden and Loki remembered that he was only sixteen. It was so easy to forget. 

I don't know how I would know," he admitted. 

"I suppose that is fair enough." 

"But even if this is to protect me, you are witches." 

"You must understand-" 

"What, that you are _good_ witches?" 

"That's not really how it works." 

"How does it work?" 

"There aren't opposites, not the way you're thinking. It just is. I wanted this that I might keep you safe and love you until you were old enough to come here." 

Loki's wandering eyes snapped to attention. "You meant to bring me here? When?" 

"Our food can grow scarce in the winters. We meant to wait until you were done growing, that you not be stunted with hunger." 

"I see. How did you intend to do this? Were you going to carry me off from father's farm like his meat grinder?" 

"I meant to find you in the fields and befriend you." 

"To lie to me?" 

"To tell you the truth as soon as you would hear it. Can you tell me that the threat of hanging is the only reason you remain here?" 

"Yes," Loki lied, just to see him suffer. To watch that lovely face distorted by pain. 

He regretted it immediately. 

"I will begin stealing money when I go to the village," Thor said quietly. "As soon as I have enough to establish you in a new town, you will take it and you will go." 

Loki jumped up, meaning to kneel at Thor's feet and wrap his arms around his waist and tell him _no, no, that was falsehood,_ but the poppet fell from his lap and in his arm he got a pain so sharp he fell to the floor, his vision going white. 

"Loki!" Thor knelt beside him. "Loki, what happened?" 

"My arm," Loki gasped. 

"Oh, my love. Here, tuck the poppet safely into your belt and I will carry you home." 

"I can walk." His voice shook. 

"I know. Do it for me." 

Thor eased him onto his back and rested the dangling arm across his chest before sliding his arms under Loki's knees and ribs and lifting him gently as a newborn lamb. 

The others were outside as Thor carried him through the ring but Loki kept his face buried in Thor's chest and only heard their feet shuffling in the fallen leaves. Someone must have opened the door for them because Thor's hold on him did not shift until he was being lowered to the bed. 

"Someone will come soon with something to ease your pain." 

"Stay with me." 

"Of course." Thor sat on the side of the bed, smoothing his hair, until someone arrived with a cup. "I need you to sit up and drink this. It will help your arm and let you get some rest." 

It was the strengthening tea again. The taste made him gag more strongly each time he drank it but he was dutiful, taking a swallow each time Thor tilted the cup for him. Despite his pain he was growing drowsy when Enecha entered. "I'm going to feel the bone," she warned. "It may not be pleasant." He nodded and she rolled up his sleeve. Pain-sweat bloomed on his face and Thor gripped tightly to his other hand. She felt along its length before looking up at him. "I can find no break. I will make you a poultice and in the morning you will feel better." 

"Thank you." It was impossible to believe that there was no break, not with how the pain had struck so sharp and sudden, but he was becoming too sleepy to question. She hurried out and returned with a bowl and a cloth. From the bowl she scooped handfuls of a brown minty paste that she smeared over his arm. It hurt terribly, and yet he was asleep before she had it wrapped in cloth. 

"Loki... Loki, wake up." 

"Mmm?" Loki mumbled, rolling towards his brother. 

"Enecha is here to change your poultice, and I have fetched you some breakfast. Let her see to you, and I shall feed you, and then you will rest all the better." 

She removed the bandage to reveal his aching arm. "I believe will heal well," she told him. 

More of the same paste was smeared on, followed by a clean cloth, and then she left them and Thor was coaxing Loki to "Eat, eat, brother, it will help you heal." 


	12. Chapter 12

Not only did the tea make him sleep, it left him with such wool in the head it was impossible to gather his thoughts. That was the worst of it, he felt. He remembered something had happened to upset him very greatly, just before he was injured, but what it was, he couldn't remember. One thing he did remember was where to find the loose board, but they wouldn't leave him alone now until they saw his tea had been drunk. 

"I don't want it," he pleaded to Thor, a few nights after he had hurt his arm. "It makes it impossible to think. I want to understand what is going on." He could see the struggle play itself out on Thor's face. "Please," he begged. 

Thor's hands spasmed. "Tell me how you got rid of it before." 

"The shaky board under the table lifts up. I poured it out there," Loki replied, hoping against hope it wasn't a mistake. 

Thor stood abruptly and took the cup. Loki watched him pour it out and set the cup aside. "You must look asleep when they come to collect me tonight. Do not risk opening the door until you hear the music. You will not so likely be noticed after that, and I believe you will see enough to answer your questions." 

"I understand." 

"But please, please, be quiet. I don't want you to begin things you may not wish to complete." 

"I will be silent as the grave." 

"Lie down. You would be feeling the tea by now." 

Loki did as he was told, and Thor leaned over to kiss his forehead. "It really is strengthening," he said. His voice was urgent, as though it were of the utmost importance that Loki believe him. "I never lied to you about that." 

"I believe you." 

Thor kissed him again. "Close your eyes, love. You must look asleep." 

Loki let his eyes fall shut. Thor sat with him, stroking his hair, until a quiet scratching on the door drew him away. 

It was nearly unbearable to remain silent and unmoving. The minutes crept past with molasses slowness. The need to maintain a drugged stillness ate at him. Surely he did not usually feel the need to shift so often, and he had not had so many itches since he had helped with the haymow. 

When the music started he threw off the blankets and jumped up, every muscle trying to work itself out at once. He shook off the energy that buzzed through him, well aware that once he opened the door his stillness would be even more vital. The low drum was hypnotic and high above it a fiddle sang strange tones and with it there came dreamlike susurration. 

Loki crept over and slowly, slowly, opened the door enough to look out with one shadowed eye. 

They were undressed, not a single stitch of clothing amongst them as they moved about the low fire. They faced it as they circled, some going more quickly and passing first before, then behind. Sometimes one would turn, other times one would raise their arms to the sky, moving in hypnotic delirium. At times they drew far too near the fire – Loki was sure he saw Charity's dress whirl right through the flames – and yet none took injury. 

The greatest shock was to realize that he was not half so shocked as he would have expected, as though he had known this before and forgotten. He was in the company of witches. He glanced behind himself and saw the poppet and for one terrifying instant memory threatened to drown him. _I gave it my love that you might feel loved._ Loki grasped hold of Thor's words and they pulled him free. 

He looked back outside and realized with a fresh wave of dizziness that although the music still played, none of them had an instrument. Their phantasy, whatever it was, was drawing to an end; though they still moved about the circle, the motions shed dreams for purpose, until they drew to a stop and drew together at one side of the fire. 

"They've grown bolder," Ashael was saying. Loki had to strain to hear him over the music. "Images of spectres and whispers of Indians do not frighten them so much as they once did." 

"They killed so many of their own townsfolk, thinking them to be witches, of course they grow bold. They begin to think themselves safe in the world," answered Charity. 

"And it is too short a step, for them, from feeling safe in the world to feeling they control the world," Tituba agreed. 

"But surely they would not come so far into the woods, even now," protested Enecha. 

So Loki thought as well, but Tituba shook her head. "If they had weapons enough, I believe they might. If you had heard how they talked, before I left... and the winter was hard. They had few ways to pass their time but to gather and plan to move against us." 

"We must counter them before they make their strike," Ashael said. 

"I do not think that will be enough. Not anymore. Either they will take us, or..." 

"Or we take them," Mary said. "I do not think it would be so hard. Many of them are little more than sheep, willing enough to be led by whoever takes command." 

That was true, he knew. And woe to the one who dares wander. 

Mary was continuing on. "The madness and the hangings are proof of that; there were never more than five accusers, except when one accused would name another out of fear, in the hope of avoiding the noose. And even there, those girls who claimed to be persecuted were most often troubled by families who threatened their father's pocketbooks." 

It was with a shock of horror Loki realized it to be true. He had not thought, before, about the relationships between the accusers and accused, had been so focused on keeping himself unnoticed, but it was true Bridget Bishop had spoken out in favor of the Porter family in their feud with the Putnams only two days before finding Ann Putnam's slender finger pointed at her in accusation. 

He clamped down his shock with a deep and silent breath. It could be discussed with Thor when he returned. For now Loki had to keep his attention on what was before him. 

"…may be true, and yet it is a moot point while we remain incomplete," Enecha argued, and Fear-Not turned to fix Thor with a pointed stare. 

At last Thor spoke. "He's so young." 

"Older than you were, when you chose," Tace pointed out. 

"But I grew up knowing. He has been kept in ignorance, and it is madness to expect him to accept and welcome this all at once. I will not allow him to be pressured. It is a choice I was given and so it must be for him." 

"And so it shall be, for all and always," Tituba answered. "He cannot be made to trust and without his heart his presence would be worse than useless." 

"So we must plan as well for ways to delay them until we are strong enough to prevail," Thor insisted. 

"Of course we will," soothed John. "We might turn their attention to the sea, for one." 

"A charm of abundance on their crops would do much to soothe them," offered Providence. 

They went on, discussing various means of distracting the villagers, and Loki grew engrossed in their conversation, so much he did not notice the chill building in the fresh night air. And then the worst thing in the world happened. 

He sneezed. 

Every head turned towards him and even as he pulled the door shut Thor was halfway to it. 


	13. Chapter 13

Loki backed away until he hit the bed. His legs gave out and he sat abruptly. He remained silent as Thor came in and closed the door before sitting down beside him. 

"So," Thor said, "now you have the full truth of what we are." 

"I do. I take it I am to be your thirteenth?" 

"Only if you wish to be. It is a thing that must be entered in love and trust. If you choose not to do so, you are welcome to remain here as long as you do not act against us, and you will remain a loved member of the village." 

Loki stood. "And I am free to leave?" 

All the hope and light drained from Thor's face. "Of course. I will escort you out of the woods to a town far from Salem, where you will be safe." 

It was never a true consideration, though he wished to hear Thor's answer, and he sat back down. "And if I am to become a part of what you are, how do I do it?" 

"Your first flight," Thor said softly. 

"I would fly?" 

"The ointment. Once it is applied your body will remain here but your soul will soar." His eyes shone with memory. 

"That does not sound so difficult an initiation." 

Thor shifted. "It is used... internally. Until one is accustomed, it can feel strange." 

"Internally? So you..." 

"It is done alone by those who are alone, but among those who have joined themselves it is a time of affection and happiness." 

"I believe I would like that." 

"As would I." 

"Must we wait until the next full moon?" 

Thor shook his head. "It remains full for some hours." 

"Then I do not wish to wait." 

Thor leaned forwards and met his lips, and all their kisses before were as nothing to this. "I will be back in moments." 

"Should I undress?" Loki asked. His arms felt like they had grown abruptly and he couldn't figure out where to put them. 

"Would you allow me the honor?" Thor looked so young, so wistful, Loki could not have denied him anything in that moment. 

"Of course. I will wait." 

Loki sat on the edge of the bed, looking away from the door that he not see the people outside. Thor slipped away and back in a matter of moments and then he was standing before Loki and his nudity meant everything was right there at eye level and left Loki no doubt of his feelings. He stood and raised his arms. Thor lifted the loose gown over his head and free. 

"Does it not feel strange, being naked out-of-doors?" 

"It's called being skyclad, and it feels beautiful." Thor spoke simply. 

"How do we do it?" Loki asked, looking at the stone jar in Thor's hand. 

"It must be your wishes that guide us. There is no hurry." 

"I would like to kiss first." 

That made Thor laugh. The warm familiar sound soothed the fluttering in his stomach and when Thor leaned over to meet his lips Loki met him halfway. Thor's hands, when they touched him, were gentle and patient and Loki understood it would always be like this when they came together, if he wished. That Thor's greatest joy was in Loki's happiness, just as Loki's was in Thor's. I will always have all the kisses I wish, he thought. _That is why Thor laughed._ If any part of his mind still harbored thoughts of this as sin, he let them fade like dying ash, fluttering into darkness. 

Always before it had been Thor who guided them, insisting upon a cautious pace, so different from his usual quick vitality. Tonight he let Loki lead them. The embers that were ever waiting in his heart burst into flame at the feel of Thor's lips and he was catching at Thor's hands, placing them upon himself, urging him to touch his chest, urging them down... 

Loki lay back and drew Thor after him, watching with calm eyes as Thor moved the jar to keep it within reach. "I am ready, brother. I wish it with all my heart, with all I am." The only way for an initiate to join; so easy, when it was Thor who offered him the sacred rites. 

Thor removed the lid and dipped his fingers inside. The ointment was white, almost glowing. Loki had seen pearls before, when a storm forced a ship to Salem's harbor and the wealthy family aboard had sheltered in the town. Their powder could not have made this gleam more richly. Thor worked it between his fingers before meeting Loki's eyes. "It should warm quickly. I took off the worst of the chill, I think." 

"I don't mind." 

"It feels strange at first but it should become good." He sounded hesitant and Loki thought again of how all this was nearly as new to Thor. 

"I know it will." 

"I love you," Thor whispered. His hands were reverent, patient and slow as his fingers slipped inside, one after the other, sliding and twisting, the thick ointment making them glide so easily. 

It did become good, just as Thor had promised, and Loki found himself moving with him, his arms stretched over his head as he shifted restlessly, hips dipping and curling and his hands were on his face, filmy streams of color shimmering from his fingers and he laughed in delight. 

His brother had become three, their figures overlapping, one blue, one red, one a shade he did not know. "Soon you will fly," they told him. "Know that I am here and you are safe." 

"I want more. You know that. It was this you waited for, I understand now." He was beginning to understand everything, that all the mysteries of the world were like occluded crystals that only had to be looked at from a new direction. 

"You are certain?" 

"I am. Please, Thor, I can't hold on..." 

The room was fragmenting and it took all his strength to remain earthbound long enough for Thor to push inside. 

It was not how Thor had said because words could not contain it. Flight was a better word than most and yet he still felt his body in their bed, felt the pleasure his brother was giving it, was even dimly aware his body was responding, hips rocking up to meet each heady thrust, and yet that was only the smallest part of what he felt. He became Thor, felt the depth of Thor's love for him, fathomless even now when he encompassed all things. He became the fish and the birds and the very stars themselves. 

His body reached its peak and his skin was lava, red and rippling, and Thor was gasping his name and then to his own heat was added another. He found himself above them, looking down upon his brother's harshly jerking body, and abruptly understood that for all its size and strength, Thor was infinitely delicate and precious. 

"I love you, brother," Loki thought, and he saw in the shift of Thor's arms his body had spoken the words. 

It seemed to last centuries before he returned to his body, but Thor was still within him, head hanging as his lungs struggled for air enough. His eyes still felt huge and though the room was dim he could see perfectly. Best of all, he had somehow retained all he had come to know when he had flown. 

* 

They emerged from their cabin to find the others sitting about the fire. Part of him felt that he should have felt ashamed of his nakedness and of the seed running down his thighs, but he felt no shame at all. 

"The circle is complete," Thor said. 

Tituba stood. "And Salem is ours." 


End file.
